


Dealing with Reality

by WeepingintheTARDIS



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Anxiety, Crying, Dealing with reality, F/F, Lorna is there to help, Self-Harm, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 16:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30058281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeepingintheTARDIS/pseuds/WeepingintheTARDIS
Summary: Lorna discovers that Nicky is hurting herself.Eventually they talk.Please read the warnings carefully.
Relationships: Lorna Morello & Nicky Nichols, Lorna Morello/Nicky Nichols
Kudos: 2





	Dealing with Reality

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently migrating my works from FF to AO3. This was written and posted in Feb 2017.
> 
> I wrote this to deal with some things that happened recently (back in 2017 that is). It’s a bit of a mess because halfway through I kind of lost the point of what I wanted to write about. Still, I wanted to share this with the fandom. Apologies for any inconsistencies and if Nicky or Lorna is OOC.

**WARNINGS:** This fic deals with selfharm and is quite dark and graphic. Trigger warnings for selfharm, dealing with selfharm and adult content. Remember this is rated M for a reason. If you think any of this might trigger you, then don’t proceed. Don’t like, don’t read.

I DO IN NO WAY MEAN TO PROMOTE SELFHARM. If you’re thinking of hurting yourself, talk to people about it. Find professional help, please.

  
I do not own OITNB, I just get to play with the characters.

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It’s late -or early in the morning, I can’t tell how long I’ve been lying awake- when a rustling sound interferes with the semi dreamlike state I’m floating in. Struggling to separate dream and reality, I try to identify the sound. I think I hear footsteps travelling towards the exit and expect a sharp knock on the glass barrier. Just one of the inmates asking for permission to use the bathroom. I tense, awaiting the harsh sound but it doesn’t come. I open my eyes just in time to see a figure silently shuffling out of the dorm. 

Frowning I look at the cube and realise that the CO inside is fast asleep. That holds for the rest of the dorm as well. The air around me is filled with light snores and other little noises people tend to make while sleeping. It’s loud and annoying and it’s the reason I occasionally can’t fall asleep.

I sit up, suppressing a groan as my back aches from lying in the cramped position I hadn’t realised I had been in. Turning around my gaze sweeps over the bunks and their sleeping occupants until I find the only empty spot. 

I swear under my breath. The covers on Nicky’s bed have been shoved to one side and the pillow that lies in the middle has dark spots on it. Tears.

Fear washes over me as I realise she hasn’t woken me up. Anger follows quickly. She had promised to wake me up. Then the anger changes, now directed at myself. I should have known she wouldn’t do that. Why didn’t I hear her cry?

I stand up, tiptoeing to her bunk and slide my hand under the mattress. My heart skips a beat as my fist closes around thin air. Nothing. My eyes close and I inhale deeply, trying to calm myself, considering my options. I know what is happening, and that it’s probably happening right now. There’s only one thing I can do.

\--- _ two months ago _ \---

With a loud thud the door of the chapel closes behind us. I’m being pulled forward by a very enthusiastic Nicky who has made it perfectly clear that she did not bring me here for prayer.

She’s in such a hurry we don’t even make it to the altar before my back slams against the wall and I’m trapped between the cold stone and Nicky’s warm body.

Her hands are all over me, my flesh coming alive under her touch. She knows exactly what I need, how to send these hot sensations down my core. She sucks on my ear and a moan escapes my lips. Vaguely I register a hand diving under my shirt, travelling up my stomach. My own hands clutch at Nicky’s sides as her other hand moves past the waistband of my pants.

I can’t stop myself from whimpering as she touches me lightly with two fingers that are so cold in contrast to the heat, it sends shivers down my spine.

I can actually feel the grin spread across her face as she moves her head down to suck at a particular sensitive spot on my neck. All the while she keeps stroking me, slowly increasing the pressure.

My legs are trembling, my pants are so wet I won’t be able to walk around in them normally and all I can do is try very hard to keep myself from making any sound that would attract other people’s attention. I know she’s aching to give in, to drop to her knees and give me what I need. I know she wants to go down on me, to guide me to that ultimate sweet release. But I won’t let her do that just yet.

One hand claws at Nicky’s back, drawing her closer. I find my way inside her pants, moving to mirror her actions.

To my surprise my fingers move easily between the slick folds and Nicky moans, biting down on my neck. I smile, I hadn’t expected her to be so turned on.

“No.” she pants and she grabs my arm, yanking it away.

Nicky is much stronger, so I have no choice but to follow the order. To tease her the only way I still can, I bring my hand to my mouth, intending to suck her juices from my fingers. Only then I notice that my fingers have red smears on them.

“Nichols.” I’m panting, but I manage to get her to listen by shaking her arm. “We’ve got to stop.”

“What?” The lips leave my neck and Nicky leans back to frown at me in confusion. Her breathing is ragged too. “Why?”

“You’re bleeding.” I hold up my hand.

She steps back reluctantly. “But I’m not-”

“That was two week ago, you and me both. That’s why I stopped you.”

Nicky dips a hand in her pants and feels around. Suddenly her face flushes and she swears.“Shit.”

As she pulls out her hand her fingertips are stained with blood.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

I know she’s lying, I can tell by the way she won’t meet my gaze and the colour of her cheeks.

“Then why is there blood in your pants?”

She shrugs. “It’s just a flesh wound. It must have started bleeding while we were running. It’s nothing. It has already stopped bleeding.”

I don’t believe her. Not when she’s acting so suspicious. 

“How did you even manage to get a wound down there?”

“Can’t you just leave it?” Suddenly her nonchalance has turned to anger. “Remember when we were having fun? That was two minutes ago. When you did little more than moan my name. Why don’t we get back to that, eh?”

I simply stare at her.

She stares back.

“You’re acting weird.” I find that the best way to deal with Nicky’s sudden mood swings is to confront her directly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me.” she groans. “You always make such a big deal of nothing.”

I sigh. “You’re the one making a big deal of this. I’m just worried.”

Nicky snorts.

“Then don’t believe me.” I push myself away from the wall and start to make my way to the exit. If she doesn’t want to talk, it’s there’s no use in staying and I don’t want to deal with this Nicky right now. “You can have fun with yourself. I’m not in the mood anymore.”

I have almost reached the door when she calls me.

“Morello, wait!”

I turn to see Nicky stand where I left her, fiddling with her hands.

“Stay.” It isn’t a command. The word comes out soft, and is even followed by almost inaudible “Please.”.

I hesitate, contemplating to leave anyway and deal with this later. However, something tells me that I should stay.

“Why?” I take a few steps back, making sure to keep some distance.

“You were right.” Nicky nods, more to herself than to me. She is smiling, but it’s not a happy smile. It is the sad, rueful smile that indicates something bad has happened. “Something’s wrong.” 

“Okay.” I point at the chairs in front of her. “Sit down and talk.”

To my surprise she obliges and sits down, waiting until I slide in the seat next to her.

“So the thing is…” She inhales deeply, closes her eyes. “It’s sort of my own fault.”

“You need to be a bit more specific.”

“I did it myself.”

I’m not sure what she’s trying to say.

Nicky sighs and rolls her eyes, her way of saying I’m too slow.

“This.” she holds up her fingers.

Realisation dawns. It’s like a cold shower that turns my blood into ice

“No.” I shake my head in disbelief. “No. Why would you do that?”

Nicky shrugs.

I’m shocked by how unmoved she seems to be.

“Does anyone know about this?”

She shakes her head. 

“How long has this been going on?”

She shrugs.

“Why haven’t you talked to anyone? Why tell me?” 

Nicky remains silent and hundreds of other questions pop up in my mind.

“Please, Nicky, talk to me.” I place a hand on her arm. “Why are you doing this?”

Nicky shrugs again. As she turns slightly I notice that her eyes are red and watery. Her voice trembles slightly as she says: “Just don’t tell Red, okay?”

I can’t stand this, this broken version of Nicky Nichols staring up at me on the verge of crying. I don’t fully understand the impact of what she has done, but I understand enough to know that it can’t be fixed with a hug. Nonetheless it’s the only way I can think of to make her feel better. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and I’m glad to feel her lean into the touch.

“This isn’t the first time, is it?” I ask softly.

She seems so small as she hides her face into my shirt and I feel her shake her head.

“Why haven’t you told me?”

Nicky sniffles. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.” 

“You don’t.” my hand glides over her head, fingers combing through the messy curls. “The only way you’ll disappoint me is not letting me help.”

Nicky buries her face further into my shoulder. “You’re helping.”

I feel more tears seep through the fabric of my shirt.

“You’re always helping.”

I smile lightly. “I’m not even doing anything.” 

“You’re still here.”

I pull her closer and press a kiss on top of her head. Normally, I ponder, it’s the other way around. When I come to think of it, almost every time I felt sad, Nicky was at my side. It’s like she always knows when I need her to pull me into a hug. It’s rare for me to find myself in a situation where I can return the gesture.

“I know you don’t want to tell me everything right now, and you don’t have to.” I say softly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here, okay?”

It’s the only thing I can think of to say to help. Nicky doesn’t respond, but I know she has heard me.

“Nicky.” I place two fingers under her chin to guide her into looking at me. “Promise me something?”

I wait until I’m sure her attention is fully on me.

“Please promise to tell me if this is happening again.”

Her pupils widen in fear. “I’m not sure if…” she stumbles over the words.

“You don’t have to tell me everything.” I say quickly. “Just tell me when you’re not feeling okay and let me help. I want to help.”

Nicky stares at me. Her mascara has been smudged, accentuating the dark circles under her eyes. It makes her look old and tired. As she blinks, her eyes soften and she nods. “Okay.”

I squeeze her hand. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

\--- _ now _ \---

Silently I walk through the empty hall, ears strained for any sign a CO is is coming my way. The nearer I am to the bathroom, the faster my heart is beating. I round the last corner and through the thumping in my ears I hear muffled crying.

I follow the sound to the stall furthest from the entrance, but there my steps falter. My feet won’t take me any further. I look down and see that my knees are quivering.

I raise a shaking hand, hesitantly grabbing the curtain. Who knows what I will find? Closing my eyes I take a deep breath to steel myself. I must be strong.

The curtain moves heavily, as if it wants to protect the woman hiding behind it. I pull until the light reaches inside, casting out the shadows.

She is sitting in the corner, knees drawn up to her chest, her sweater pulled over her face. Her figure shakes with every sob that escapes. The knuckles of her right hand are white from the force of her fingers gripping a toothbrush.

One step forward, I fall to my knees and reach out for her.

“Nicky…”

She shudders as my fingers touch her arm, but she doesn’t shake them off.

“Leave me alone.” She’s choking on the words. “Please.”

Tentatively I reach for the hood of her sweater, gently pulling it from her face. Still she doesn’t stop me, even though she could easily push me away if she wanted to.

Nicky turns her head to look at me. Her face is wet from tears and strands of curly blond hair are sticking to her cheeks. Her eyes are big, red and watery, but there is a pleading look in them.

“Lorna, please…”

I shake my head. “You promised you’d let me help.”

“You can’t.” Even in this situation she manages to produce a cynical laugh. “I’m a lost cause.”

I shake my head again. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, though.”

It’s the way she speaks those words, that tells me she believes it. She thinks she is a complete failure, always letting everyone down.

“No, it’s not.”

My hand moves over hers and I gently wriggle her fingers out of their strong grip and take the toothbrush out of her hand.

This toothbrush is not a normal toothbrush, although I doubt there is anyone in Litchfield who doesn’t have one like this yet. In this place you need a weapon to protect yourself from dangerous women you accidently piss off. The only available object to easily create one is a toothbrush. The back can be sharpened against the floor or a bed frame until the end is sharp enough to wound someone. Sharp as a knife.

I hold the end up against the light. Even though I expected to find blood, I’m shocked to see the red stains on the plastic.

“Oh, Nicky…”

She had already averted her eyes and now turns her head to face the wall. A single tear slides down her cheek.

I put the self made knife down on the floor, where it is out of reach. Then I take her hand in mine again.

“Why?” I repeat the question I have asked so many times before. A question she has never answered. “Why did you do this?”

Nicky sniffs, the other hand coming up to wipe her eyes and nose. She is thinking, eyes fixed on one of the tiles on the wall. Her lips move, but no words come out. She shakes her head, swallows, faces the wall again.

I wait patiently, softly rubbing circles on the back of her hand with my thumb. Under my palm I feel her fingers flex in response.

After a while Nicky turns and her gaze meets mine.

“I couldn’t-” She stops and bites her lip, gaze dropping to the floor.

I squeeze her hand encouragingly.

“I couldn’t stop thinking.” she mumbles almost inaudibly. “It just wouldn’t stop.”

“What wouldn’t stop?” I ask.

Nicky raises her gaze. “The thoughts.” 

I don’t quite understand how that makes her so upset, but I nod nonetheless.

“I- I keep thinking about every little shitty thing that ever happened.” she shudders. “It’s so much. It’s like my head is going to explode because it’s so full of shit.”

“What happened?”

This invokes another cynical laugh. “What do you think happened?” 

“I don’t understand.” I admit. 

“It’s the only way to make it stop.” Nicky tries to smile, but it falters before it is even there. 

The silence that has fallen between us is tense. I don’t know what to say and neither does Nicky, so we just sit together until I find the courage to ask what I didn’t dare ask before.

“Can I see?”

Her brows furrow in confusion and at first I think she isn’t going to answer. She watches me intently. “Why?”

I take a moment to formulate an answer. “I want to understand.”

Nicky nods, considering this. “Okay.”

I let go of her hand as she pulls it away, using it to grip the hem of her nightie and slowly pull it up.

Inch by inch her legs are uncovered. The first part really isn’t anything I haven’t seen before. From the round calves up to her knees nothing’s new. Above that awaits a whole new territory. If it the situation weren’t so serious I might have found it arousing. 

When I come to think about it, it’s strange that I haven’t seen that part of her. You’d say during all the times we have been together I must have at least once seen her naked. The truth is, I haven’t. An obvious reason is that most of the times she stays fully clothed. A less obvious one is that when she lets me return the favour, it’s in the chapel when we're in a haste to finish before the service starts and she pulls her pants down only a bit before guiding me down where she wants me.

Now it’s starting to make sense that she keeps that part of her hidden so well. 

Nicky avoids looking at me or her legs as she reaches her underwear and pulls it aside a bit too. 

I gasp as I count three lines on the inside of her thigh. Without thinking about it, my fingers are on them, following the small trails of dried blood. That is when I discover two more similar marks. These are older and, unlike the recent wounds, not red, but white. Pale scars, indicating where flesh has once been torn.

I wince as I touch the scars. Nicky shudders.

“That tickles.”

“Sorry.” I apologize quickly.

I continue my study of the wounds in silence. Considering they had been made with a toothbrush they were quite straight cuts. In a way I’m impressed. Nicky often jokes about having a steady hand.

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper, a lump rising in my throat.

“What for?”

I feel tears burning behind my eyes, but I don't want to let them escape. “That you feel the need to do this.”

Nicky nods. She’s blinking rapidly, trying to hold back more tears and failing. 

“Hey.” I pull her in a hug. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“You’re right, it’s not.” I agree. “It’s not okay.”

Then we’re both crying, holding on to each other.

I cry because it’s hard to see my best friend so sad. Nicky, who is normally so strong and now so vulnerable. I cry because I don’t know how I can help. 

However, I might know someone who can.

Nicky specifically asked me not to tell Rod. But she knows Nicky the best of all of us and I’m sure she would know how to help her get out of this.

“I know you don’t want to,” I start tentatively. “But you should probably talk to Red. She will know what to do.”

“I can’t.” Nicky sniffles. “I can’t do that to her.”

“She’s your mother.” I say. “She’d want you to tell her, Nicky.” 

I can see she’s thinking about it. The lines in her face deepen. All the pro’s and con’s are being weighted. Everything added up and carefully studied. Above all she is scared.

I’m afraid she won’t do it. That she won’t tell Red and that she keeps acting like nothing happened while knowing that inevitably it will happen again. 

This is complicated in a way I have never encountered before. It goes beyond my imagination what Nicky must be thinking and how she must be feeling right now. 

“Morello?”

My thoughts stop running and I turn my attention back to Nicky. 

“If I’ll talk to Red, will you be there?

Relief washes over me. I nod. “We can tell her together.”

“Thanks.”

I reach out to push a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Nicky nods slowly, closing her eyes and leaning into the touch. She suppresses a yawn.

My thumb swipes over her cheek, removing the last of the tears. “Let’s get back to bed, okay?”

I stand up and extend my arm to help Nicky to her feet. We make our way back to the dorm in silence. 

As we reach my bed, Nicky catches my arm, tugging me in the other direction. I take the hint and follow her to her bed.

We lie down under the covers and Nicky pulls me close so she can spoon me. Her arm is wrapped loosely around my waist, our fingers intertwined.

It’s late, or early in the morning -I lost track of time a while ago- when the breathing behind me slows to a steady snoring. I don’t know exactly what is going on with Nicky or how to fix her. I’m afraid because I don’t know how to prevent this from happening again. At least she agreed to talk to Red. That’s a start. We can do that tomorrow. Tomorrow we can start to put this to an end.

**Author's Note:**

> Please share your thoughts on this, but be careful with triggers in the comments.


End file.
